


Safety In Your Embrace

by WhoStarLocked



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Accidents, Altissia (Final Fantasy XV), Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attacks, Bad Touch, Bad Touch Mors Lucis Caelum, Big Brothers, Brotherly Love, Cor Leonis Angst, Cor Leonis Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Fear, First Meetings, Gen, Good Ardyn Izunia, Heat Stroke, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Mors Lucis Caelum Being an Asshole, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Poor Cor Leonis, Protective Ardyn Izunia, Protective Weskham Armaugh, Protectiveness, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Running Away, Scared Cor Leonis, Secrets, Self-Defense, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Supportive Ardyn Izunia, Supportive Weskham Armaugh, Trust, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex, Worry, Young Cor Leonis, fleeing, he still works for the empire, he's just not totally heartless, ish, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29209017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoStarLocked/pseuds/WhoStarLocked
Summary: Cor the Immortal didn’t run away. He never backed down from a fight. And yet, here he was running from the law, from the very kingdom he had once served because of how badly he had messed up. Even if that means leaving everything behind - his friends, his job, his home, because if he stays Mors will lock him up and throw away the key-Regis ending up involved wasn’t part of the plan!Although, running into the stupid man with the stupid hat wasn’t part of the plan either...
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia & Cor Leonis, Clarus Amicitia & Cor Leonis, Clarus Amicitia & Cor Leonis & Regis Lucis Caelum, Clarus Amicitia & Weskham Armaugh & Cor Leonis & Regis Lucis Caelum & Cid Sophiar, Cor Leonis & Cid Sophiar, Cor Leonis & Regis Lucis Caelum, Cor Leonis/Mors Lucis Caelum, Weskham Armaugh & Cor Leonis
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Safety In Your Embrace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheDarkestDandelion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkestDandelion/gifts).



> Hey everyone!
> 
> Guess who's not working on the WIPs they already have posted and instead is back with more Cor-centric angst?! 
> 
> Yeah, you guessed it! 
> 
> Anyways, this idea came about when I was writing Don't You Worry Child, as an alternate version of events, and then TheDarkestDandelion badgered me into writing it, because they wanted Cor & Ardyn bonding. 
> 
> So of course I caved. 
> 
> Just to clear up something here at the start, it's tagged rape/non-con - this happens off-screen!!! It's only mentioned/described briefly in flashbacks in the whole story (it's not in this first chapter at all). But please, please be careful if this is a trigger for you!   
> The other tagging thing - I've tagged major character death just to be on the safe side, although it's still up for debate whether said character is both major and actually going to die. I'M NOT KILLING OFF COR, GUYS!
> 
> Apart from that, I hope you enjoy!

A torrent of rain lashed down around him; the wind whipping around his jacket chilled him to the bone. He could barely see to put one foot in front of the other through the downpour, but he soldiered on, his arms wrapped around his torso to stave off the worst of the biting, freezing cold that gripped him. Water streamed down his face from his sodden hair, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. Each step he took felt like it took a herculean amount of effort to take, but take them he did, because he knew if he let himself stand still then he’d never start again. 

The harsh glare of lights up ahead gave him a small spark of hope that this might be over soon, but first he had to get to the buildings. He wasn’t far away now, but the howling wind was increasing, and it took every bit of strength he possessed not to just throw the book in. He knew he couldn’t. If the daemons didn’t get him then the guards would. Right now he wasn’t sure which would be the worst fate. The dark was pressing in all around him, spurring him on, forcing him to retreat to somewhere he knew was a place of security - where he knew he was  _ safe _ . All he had to do was make it to Hammerhead. He had no idea how he was going to explain his sudden appearance, but he couldn’t think straight, he hadn’t been able to think clearly for a while now. Fear had been his constant companion for months and after what happened yesterday… that constant feeling of terror had escalated tenfold. No one would understand. Not even Cid would understand, but he needed to be with him. He needed the security the mechanic gave him, all he had to do was keep walking. If he kept walking he’d be safe. 

He scrambled up the boulders on the roadside, eager to cross the road and get in out of this relentless rain, but as he reached the top of the rocky outcrop, he noticed the vans. There were six of them, parked haphazardly around the garage. Lit up by the glow of the lights from inside, Cor could just make out Cid standing in the doorway to the garage, and it looked like he was spitting feathers at the uniform-clad men standing before him. 

Cor’s heart sank. 

They were already here! His numb fingers slipped on the wet rocks, and he fell backwards, back out of view of the outpost. He pressed into the rock, trying to think past the hazy panic that had gripped him. Why would they come here? Regis must’ve told them… or Clarus. They must’ve known this was the first place he’d come to. They must have known he’d go to Cid after what had happened yesterday.  _ Shit _ . Now he’d brought the Crownsguard and possibly even the Kingsglaive down on Cid’s head, and Cid would have no idea why. Cor shuddered, fighting off his shivers while he tried to think. 

One thing was for certain - he couldn’t stay here. If the guards were here, then it wasn’t safe, no matter how much Cor longed to run over to Cid and have the mechanic tell him it was all going to be okay. 

With a choked off sob, he forced himself back to his feet, pushing off the rocks behind him when it felt like his legs would give out. There was nothing else for it. If he couldn’t go to Cid for comfort, he’d have to get far away from here. 

He walked along the roadside, trying not to stray too far away from the lights as the darkness swamped his vision entirely. After an hour or so, he heard the quiet rumble of a vehicle approaching. He paused under the next streetlight, shivering uncontrollably, his wet clothes sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the headlights, Cor watched, muscles tensed in case he had to make a quick escape into the dark wilderness. The car came to a halt next to him, and the window slowly moved down. 

“Just what in the name of the six do you think you’re doing out here at this time? And in this weather, no less?” An unfamiliar voice called. 

Cor let out a heavy sigh of relief. They didn’t know his name, and they hadn't placed him under arrest. It wasn’t a Crownsguard. 

“Get in!” 

He stumbled forwards and opened the passenger door. He all but collapsed into the seat, offering a mumbled thanks as the car began to move again. 

“You’re soaked through.” The driver sighed, then began to fiddle with the air conditioning. When a blast of hot air hit Cor’s face, he shivered involuntarily, and curled his hands towards the vent. He let his eyes fall shut in bliss. “Just what the hell are you playing at, out here all alone?” 

“Had to leave.” Cor managed to stutter out through his chattering teeth. “Couldn’t stay.” 

“Figured you’re the guard they’re chasing down. Where you headed to?” The stranger asked. Cor glanced across at her, a sick feeling building in the pit of his stomach. She had stern, worn features, but her chestnut brown hair looked soft where it fell across her shoulder. Her mouth was set in a thin line as she peered through the windscreen, not that much could be seen, even with the wipers going full-speed. 

“You going to report me?” He asked eventually. There was no sense in denying it. His soaked uniform was a dead giveaway, and if they were properly hunting him, then they’d have released a description of him on the news already. There’d probably be an APB out by the day after tomorrow. 

The woman snorted in response to his question. She shot him a look, but Cor couldn’t decipher her expression. With a little heat finally seeping back into his body, exhaustion was finally winning out over everything else. 

“No.” She said quietly. “I don’t much care for the royal family, especially since they drew back the wall. I’m sure you’ve got good reason to be running.” 

Cor contemplated that in silence for a while. He did, didn’t he? It was a good reason, wasn’t it? The familiar feeling of panic crept up on him as he stared out into the darkness. He couldn’t stay, not when…  _ no _ . He had had to leave. He’d already stayed too long. This stupid mess had already caused him to do something he regretted, something he couldn’t explain or take back. It had already cost him too much. Leaving was his only option. He couldn’t go back. If he did he would be arrested. 

There was no turning back now. 

“Look, you’ve got your reasons. I’m not going to pry. I’m not going to turn you in either. If I was going to do that I’d have turned this car around to head back to the city by now. So why don’t you just tell me where you’re planning on going? I’ll take you as far as I can.” 

The woman glanced across at him again, a worried frown forming on her features. “You  _ do  _ have a place in mind, don’t you?” 

_ Hammerhead _ , Cor wanted to say, but even if the guards had left, he knew the place would be under tight surveillance for a while. No, he couldn’t risk going there. It wasn’t fair to Cid. He’d already caused Cid enough problems. He hadn’t honestly thought much beyond getting to Cid and safety in his panic. Until he’d seen the vans, it hadn’t occurred to him that Regis and Clarus might have told the guard where to look for him, that they might be that angry with him. 

Then again, they should have been that angry with him. Cor shuddered as his thoughts turned to what had happened the previous day.

No. Home wasn’t an option. Cid wasn’t an option. There was only one place he might still be welcome, and that was assuming that they didn’t tip him off as well. But it was the only answer that Cor could give, and this kind stranger was waiting for one. 

“Galdin Quay.” 

“Alright, Galdin Quay it is.” 

* * *

Considering the horrendous storm that had lasted long into the early hours of the morning, the sea was remarkably calm. Cor stared out at the gorgeous blue waves from the edge of the quay in silence, the morning sun warm on his face. At this time in the morning, the quay was peaceful, still lacking the throngs of people that usually descended on the beach. With nothing but the sound of the waves breaking on the sand, Cor felt some of the stress and tension of the past couple of months begin to fall away. 

The boat he’d managed to get a ticket on was still five minutes out from docking, and Cor wasn’t about to risk being spotted by someone who might report him, so he was waiting on the balcony to the right of the hotel. Despite sleeping in the car almost all the way here, he still felt exhausted. 

He had replaced his uniform with a pair of dark jeans and a baggy grey t-shirt that he claimed from a lost and found box at the front desk of the hotel. When he’d changed, he’d ripped his uniform as much as he could manage with the dagger he had in his armiger, then taken a long walk down the beach, burying the rags at uneven intervals. It wouldn’t last forever, but it would give him time to get to Altissia without being caught. Hopefully. 

With a miserable sigh, Cor wandered back through the hotel to the docks and watched as passengers piled off the boat. As more and more passengers arrived, waiting to board, it was easy to get lost in the crowd as they hurried along the gangway. No one even checked his ticket, but Cor wasn’t about to draw unnecessary attention to himself, so he kept quiet and found a seat tucked away in the corner. 

The crossing was mostly uneventful, and as Cor queued to leave the boat in Altissia, he was about to thank his lucky stars for his escape being so easy when he heard a voice drift over the crowd. 

“This is pointless. He’ll be long gone by now. I mean, it’s been two days! He’ll have stolen a car, crossed to Altissia sometime last night, and he’ll be well away from here by now.” 

A man’s voice. Deep, growly, and worst of all, familiar. 

Cor had heard that voice before, in training. 

“Will he, though? By all accounts he left on foot. There’s no way he’d have reached Galdin on foot yet.” 

Another familiar voice. _Shit!_

“Yeah, but he won’t have stayed on foot.” The man retorted, talking slowly like he was speaking to a dumb child. “He’ll have stolen a car the first chance he got.”

“Ah, but would he?” The second voice - not as deep, but much smoother - chimed in again. “He’s only fifteen. I doubt he can drive without drawing attention to himself even if he did know how to hotwire a car in the first place.” 

Oh, fuck. There was no way they were discussing someone else. 

Cor tensed, panic bubbling in his chest. He felt his breaths getting shorter, rational thoughts spinning away from him. He knew both voices. He knew they were officers in the Crownsguard. He knew they were here for him! 

Six, he knew it had been too easy! The stranger probably reported him as soon as he’d gotten out of the car. Fuck! He should have realised. That was the safest thing she could have done! And now he was stuck! He couldn’t run, that would draw their attention, but if they happened to see him anyway… 

Fear clawed at his chest as he made his way off the boat. He wasn’t far away now, but taking a direct route to his destination would make it far too simple for them to follow him if they did clock him. 

_ Okay, you can do this, _ Cor tried to convince himself, but it was half-hearted at best and riddled with building anxiety. He would have to take a longer route. He could just remember enough of the city from the road-trip to make a circuit around it. If he did that and stuck to the crowded places, he could lose the guards and get to safety without being traced. 

That was if they noticed him, he realised suddenly. At the moment he was panicking over nothing. Forcing himself to take a deep breath and steeling his nerves, Cor offered his ticket to the crew for inspection - that operation was always much tighter in Altissia than Galdin - then stepped onto the concrete dock unhindered. 

His relief was dizzying.

His eyes darted around the crowded space, but he couldn’t see any other guards, or any sign of posters or an APB. There didn’t even seem to be any police searching the crowds for a specific face. Cor kept his strides steady as he picked a route through the bustling port, his heart hammering in his chest. He shoulder-checked a man in a business suit and automatically glanced behind him to apologise as the other man retreated. 

“Hey! Stop right there!” The gruff shout came from the gangway, and Cor’s heart leapt into his throat as he locked eyes with the two guards. They were still getting their tickets checked, but the man - a lieutenant, Cor realised, now he could see his uniform - was already shoving people out of his path as he looked for a place to jump the remaining distance between him and land. 

Cor bolted. 

“Stop that boy!” The second guard’s voice screamed at the onlookers, but Cor couldn’t spare any time to gauge their reactions. He pushed around the first group of people in front of him, then dodged another’s outstretched arm as he ran blindly away from his pursuers. Cor weaved through the throngs of people, using his smaller stature to his advantage to duck between people. He tried to stick to where the crowds were thickest and keep his head low, hoping that without the height advantage of the gangway his assailants would lose sight of him. 

It was not to be. He could hear them giving chase as he pushed through the queue of people standing by immigration. Shouts followed him, getting closer as he scrambled past guards and civilians alike.

“By order of King Mors, you are under arrest!” The first guard yelled. 

Cor chanced a glance behind him, and found that the guard was almost within reach. His hand was just about to curl over Cor’s shoulder, so without thinking, Cor dropped forwards into a roll. He managed to break through the last of the people in the narrow immigration queue and ran out onto the street proper. He didn’t pause as he let his momentum from the roll carry him back onto his feet and he carried on running, not daring to look back again. 

His heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline sang in his veins, and his vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears. He veered to the left, determined to get as much distance between him and the lieutenant as possible when he collided into something warm and unyielding. Cor fell to one side, just barely managing to avoid his face smashing into the concrete. 

“Did no one ever teach you to watch where you are going?!” A man’s snide voice asked from above.

Cor didn’t spare the person he’d run into a thought, instead scrambling back to his feet and sprinting down the road as he saw the guards gaining on him. 

“Hey!” the stranger’s voice called after him, anger obvious in his tone. Cor didn’t even glance back, instead ducking down a nearby alleyway and out of their sight. 

Even though the sounds of pursuit died down, and no more shouts followed him, Cor still ran until he couldn’t. His legs had turned to jelly, and he stumbled to a halt, knelt on the sun-warmed cobbles of a bustling plaza. He gulped down breath after ragged breath, waiting for the stitch in his side to ease before he tried to stand. Looking around, he was glad to find no sign of the guards, nor anyone else following him.

Dehydrated from running so far in the stuffy heat, Cor set out across the plaza, mentally planning a convoluted route towards the one place that might offer salvation.

* * *

Wesk waved as a young couple headed out of his bar onto the streets of Altissia. The sun had just set, and in the soft hues of twilight the streets were alive with people. It was often more crowded at night here, the midday heat was just too stifling for anyone to do anything at that time. It was a cloudless night, and above the soft yellow glow of streetlights, a few stars twinkled in the deep blue sky. 

It was still humid, and Wesk felt stifled in his dress shirt and vest, but there were still several hours before he could even consider closing, so he poured himself a glass of chilled water then set about clearing the recently vacated tables. 

The bar was fairly quiet, the early evening rush giving way to a lull before the night-time drinkers would slowly but surely make their way here. He let out a sigh, at least this lifestyle was much simpler compared to nagging Regis all day long. He missed his friend dearly but returning to the Capital of Lucis was not something Wesk would ever want to do-

“Caelums! Bloody Caelums!” 

_ Speak of the devil _ , Wesk thought to himself with a chuckle. 

“Ah, Chancellor Izunia!” He called in greeting, offering the regular customer a grin as he came to a halt by the bar, still grumbling. “Good evening.” 

“Humour me a moment, mister Armaugh.” Izunia said, leaning on his elbows. 

“Of course. How can I help?” Wesk asked, pulling a clean glass from a shelf and fetching a bottle of the chancellor’s preferred wine - a beautiful deep red Altissian wine. It was expensive, but gods above it was nice. He set the glass on the bar before the Niflheim politician and poured. The other man nodded his thanks. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that pompous ass of a so-called king has absolutely no business here anymore, does he?” 

Wesk had to bite back a smirk. He loved Regis, but it was no secret that his father was, indeed, a ‘pompous ass’. While he had no doubts that the man before him knew exactly what his previous occupation was, it wasn’t something they openly acknowledged, so Wesk didn’t want to give any reaction that might reveal what even Lucian citizens thought of their current king. 

“He does not, Chancellor.” He answered, smiling softly. 

“No.” Izunia groused, sipping at the wine. The irritation in his tone was enough to set Wesk on edge. Whatever had happened, it had gotten under the chancellor’s skin. “So why, today, did I have to escort two of his precious Crownsguards out of this fair city?” 

“What?” Wesk asked in disbelief. That was bold, even for Mors. He made a mental note to call Regis later and find out what the hell had happened for his father to think that was a good idea. “What were they doing here?” 

“Chasing down some poor boy they tried to insist was a hardened criminal!” Ardyn spat, fury making his eyes glow in the low light. 

Wesk couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. That didn’t sound right at all. He was about to reply when customers at the other end of the bar called for service. He offered Izunia an apologetic smile before making his way down to the other bar. The chancellor always preferred to sit at the quiet end of the bar, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the customers. He always liked to chat idly with Wesk too, although he usually avoided work as a topic. 

“How can I be of service?” He asked as he reached the other end of the long bar running through the building. It was the young couple who had just left, standing close to each other. 

“Ah, just thought we should let you know, we just saw some kid breaking into your cellar. Looked kind of shady.” 

“Oh, astrals!” Wesk sighed, looking skywards. The last thing he needed was stock being stolen! 

After he’d been injured fighting with Regis, he’d had to stay in this city to get treatment, and in the four months he’d spent recovering, he had fallen in love with the lifestyle here. Deciding to stay permanently had been one of the most difficult decisions he had ever made, but he did not regret it in the slightest. Since then, he’d bought this place and was so far turning it into a successful little wine bar. But that would soon change if his more expensive wines were stolen. This place had only been open for a handful of months, and what little profit he was beginning to make in this business venture would be completely lost. 

With a hurried thank you, Wesk got one of the two waiters he employed to cover behind the bar and silently made his way down into the cellar. As he descended, he loaded his revolver, the cold grip achingly familiar in his hand. 

The cellar was shrouded in darkness, but he didn’t turn on the light, not wanting to alert the thief to his presence. Through the murky darkness, Wesk could just make out the small, street-level window which had clearly been forced open. His heart rate picked up when he heard someone shuffling about in between the crates. 

“Alright, I know you’re in here!” He called out into the darkness. The intruder froze, the room going silent. “Come out now, or I’m calling the police!” 

For a second, there was no response, but then Wesk heard a shaky inhale, and footsteps making their way towards him slowly. He flicked the light on, flooding the room in harsh white light. 

“Please don’t call them!” 

A familiar voice answered him. He could only stare in wonder as Cor stepped out from the stacks of crates and barrels. 

“Cor?” Wesk asked in disbelief, holstering his gun. 

That disbelief soon turned into alarm when his honorary little brother came into the light. He looked a state. His hair was messy, he looked and sounded exhausted. The clothes he wore were definitely not his own, and they seemed to be covered in dust and grime. What the hell had happened? Wesk took a step closer and that was when he noticed his puffy, red, watery eyes. His face was tinged red too, and his cheeks were soaked in…  _ tears?! _ Wesk sucked in a sharp breath of worry. Cor didn’t cry. Cor never cried! 

“Please, Wesk!” Cor said again, voice trembling and edged with desperation. “Please don’t call the cops!”

“Cor, what the hell are you doing here?” Wesk asked with growing concern. Last he’d heard, Cor had been given some kind of promotion in the guard and was enjoying his new position. And there was no way he was on leave so soon after their extended road-trip. 

“Please,” Cor begged, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks as he sobbed, staring at Wesk imploringly. “Please, Wesk! Please don’t call them.” 

Wesk raised his eyebrows, not sure just why Cor was still stressing over that threat. This hardly seemed like the surly, cocky young teenager that Wesk had gotten to know over the past couple of years. The Cor he’d known before would have met his threat with a scathing remark and a cheeky grin, not tears and fear! This Cor was far more vulnerable than Wesk had ever seen him - he hadn’t even been this distressed after his fight with Gilgamesh! Looking at him in his dishevelled state, it struck Wesk that the Cor that stood before him now really was just a frightened child. 

“I won’t.” He said softly, distracted. A million thoughts raced through his mind, why in hell was Cor here, and what had happened to him? Wesk couldn’t think of a single possible answer. “I’m not going to call the police on you, Cor. I thought you were a thief.” 

Wesk stepped forwards, and clasped Cor’s shoulders lightly. “Cor, what the hell has happened to you? Are you alright?” 

He was clearly not. Wesk could feel just how tense he was where he held him, and he was trembling minutely. He was also very, very warm. With a slight frown, Wesk pressed the back of one hand to Cor’s forehead. His skin was radiating heat, but he was not sweating. He pursed his lips. Cor only continued to stare at him in anguish, blinking dazedly in the light. 

Heatstroke. He definitely had heatstroke. 

“Please don’t call them.” He whispered again.

“Alright, Cor, I won’t.” Wesk told him firmly. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere cool. When’s the last time you drank something?” 

He steered Cor towards the stairs, flicking off the lights as he went. 

“Uh, not sure.” Cor answered unsteadily. “Uhm. This morning, maybe? Yesterday?” 

Wesk swore under his breath. He led Cor out from behind the bar and towards the quiet end. Izunia was still there, but he was glaring down at his phone, not paying them any mind, so Wesk pushed Cor past him and into a seat at the end of the bar. It was directly next to a little plug-in fan, which Wesk was quick to turn on. Then he made his way briskly back around to where he’d left his iced water and poured Cor a glass. 

“Here, drink this.” He said sternly, leaving no room for arguments. Cor’s whole frame seemed to droop, like he was moments away from collapse, and he leant on the bar in a way that he never normally would. What on Eos had possessed him to go all day without a drink?! 

Once Cor had accepted the glass and brought it to his lips, Wesk turned away and quickly dug out a new cloth and soaked it for him. When he draped it over Cor’s neck, his brother shivered, but he made no move to take it off. He was about to try and question Cor some more, but another yell for service at the other end of the bar got his attention. With another sigh, Wesk reluctantly pulled away from Cor. 

“Chancellor, would you mind keeping an eye on my friend here for a moment?” He asked suddenly. When Izunia glanced up at him in question, he indicated Cor and continued. “He’s got a bit of heatstroke, and I’ve got to serve customers.” 

“Of course.” Izunia answered, sounding disinterested. Wesk thanked him anyway before he moved down the bar. 

He was only gone for ten minutes, but when Wesk wandered back up to Cor and Izunia, he found the chancellor kneeling on the floor, holding a shaking, hyperventilating Cor in his arms. The glass of water Cor had been sipping at had been spilt, and Izunia was murmuring something to Cor in a reassuring tone. 

“Six! What happened?” Wesk asked, failing at keeping his growing alarm from his tone. He ran back around the bar and joined them, kneeling next to Ardyn on the floor. 

“I only asked him what a Lucian boy has to do for the Crownsguard to hunt him across continents!” Ardyn replied, rubbing a hand up and down Cor’s back soothingly. 

Cor was gasping wetly, and trembling violently. 

“What are you talking about?” Wesk demanded, glaring at the politician. 

“This boy is the one I was telling you about!” The chancellor scowled right back at him. “The one who was being chased by two Crownsguards! He ran straight into me this morning!” 

_ Shit! _

The revelation only raised more questions for Wesk. Just what the hell had Cor gotten himself into now? And why had that led to him being tracked down like a criminal?! Unfortunately, Cor was in no place to answer him right now.

“It’s alright, lad. No one is calling anyone.” Ardyn said calmly, turning his attention back to Cor. “Just breathe slowly, okay?” 

“That’s better.” He smiled, once Cor’s breathing became less erratic. “Dear me, seems like you’ve had quite a scare, mister hardened-criminal.” 

Ardyn grinned, wiping fresh tears from Cor’s cheek with a surprising gentleness. Wesk’s alarm grew tenfold when Cor flinched at the touch. 

Okay, no. 

Whatever was going on with his little brother was serious, and Wesk couldn’t afford to ignore it any longer. He needed to get Cor home,  _ now _ , and get to the bottom of this weird behaviour. 

“Cor, my dear, come here.” Wesk said gently, reaching slowly for the shaking boy. 

Cor met his gaze, then slowly pulled away from Ardyn and shuffled over to Wesk. he pressed his head into Wesk’s shoulder and clung to his chest. Wesk didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around Cor. 

“It’s okay, Cor. You’re alright.” Wesk tried to reassure him, rocking him from side to side. “I think I’d better get you home, hadn’t I?” 

“No!” Cor gasped, pulling away and looking at Wesk beseechingly. “I want to stay here, with you!  _ Please!” _

“Dear lad!” Ardyn chortled. “Weskham doesn’t live in the bar! He only meant he should take you to his house.” 

Ardyn smiled gently at Cor when he spared the other man a glance, but when Cor tucked his head back into Wesk’s shoulder, the chancellor shared a concerned look with Wesk. 

“Come on, Cor. I’ll get you some more water while I get this place closed up, alright?” 


End file.
